


A Rainbow After a Rainstorm

by Firezumi



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Cutting, Depressing, Gen, I promise just stick with me, Mental Illnesses, Minor Changes To Canon Facts, Rating May Change, Suicide Attempt, Tags May Change, Therapy, War Storm Spoilers, Will become lighter and happier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firezumi/pseuds/Firezumi
Summary: Believing himself to have nothing to live for Maven decides to end his own life.  But he needs to say goodbye to Thomas, even if all he can really say goodbye to is an old house full of memories.





	1. Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I may make this an actual story, with like actual several chapters of Maven getting better with therapy and support from Cal. However I have over 45 stories I've started and then quickly abandoned so I wouldn't count on it. But if you guys want to write a story using my idea go for it. You wouldn't need to credit me.

Maven sighed, he used to love the snow but now it’s just a cruel reminder of everything. It was a reminder that Maven was a burner and it wasn’t right for a burner to love the snow, just like how Maven was a silver, it wasn’t right to for a silver to have fallen in love with a red, a boy nonetheless. 

The snowflakes stuck to his lashes and the cold somehow froze his core. The cold shouldn’t affect him when he’s out of the silent stone, not when he was a burner Maybe the reason the cold affected him was because his core is hollow, dug out and carved by his mother, she carved him too thin though. He’s cracked and today he would snap.

Or maybe he’s already snapped, maybe that’s why Mother still haunted him. It didn’t make sense that she was in his head when she was dead. 

But maybe she wasn’t dead.

But he saw her body, how could he not have, they broadcasted it for all to see. A mutilated corpse of the woman who supposedly was the only one who ever loved him.

But if that was true, then why had Thomas said he loved him?

Power, Thomas was a power hungry red. Worthless and manipulative.

But that wasn’t right either, no power hungry person would ask for Maven to lay next to him for just one more minute.

He was trying to convince you that he loved you. He didn’t.

Maven didn’t truly accept the answer but didn’t want to fight with himself. Instead, he trekked on.

Maven stopped in front of the old cottage. It was overtaken with vines and weeds. It was the perfect place for a young prince and a red boy to hide. It started as a refuge and became a home. 

With thoughts of home Maven entered. He caught the sickly sweet scent of hot chocolate, he wanted to puke. But it wasn’t real. The scent of hot chocolate would have faded after almost 3 years.

Just like how the paint on the walls had faded, the once pumpkin orange entrance hall was now lighter where the sun hit and darker where the sun couldn’t reach.

Like Maven, he was lighter where Thomas’ touch remained, darker where it didn’t or he lost the touch because of Mother’s ‘help’. 

The floor was dusty making Maven sneeze when he inhales. Maven remembers cleaning the cabin the first time he found it. He remembers scrubbing the floor ceaselessly, trying to make one place for himself that wasn’t covered in dirt and blood. Maven hated the battlefield, hated the scent of blood, the thick smoke from guns and bombs. 

He hadn’t had time to clean the cabin before they had to leave for the more fighting. Thomas’ shirt was left abandoned on the floor of the living room along with a large majority of Maven’s own clothing. He left them there, he wouldn’t fit them now, now he was older, wiser, sadder, more broken, empty.

Maven sighed, leaving the clothes on the floor, the scent of Thomas had long faded from them caused by rain that seeped in through the open windows. It only smelled of mold now.

His fingers dragged along the walls, a couple splinters of the wood caught into his hands, he let the silver drip onto the walnut flooring. His blood shot up in small flames only to quickly drop to nothing. Like Maven, on fire but only momentarily and then gone. It was for the best, no one would miss him.

Maybe Cal would? He seemed pretty upset when Maven had told him to stop trying to save him.

He was upset you didn’t want to be his mindless slave.

Mindless slave, like he was with Mother, mindless, dead, empty.

She loved you.

Is that love?

Mother knows best.

Maven couldn’t argue with that one.

Maven didn't want to argue with that one. 

He ended up in the bedroom, the sheets messy and the blanket on the floor from the morning activities of trying to get Thomas out of bed. Didn't work well, he woke up but he didn't get out of bed, instead pulling Maven back into the warmth of the bed and Thomas' body.

Maven couldn't recall what he looked like without a shirt, beautiful was probably the answer though. 

Maven smoothed the sheets, he expected warmth but really ended up with nothing but cold and empty sheets. Tears sprung to his eyes. Of course no one was in the bed, Thomas was dead. 

Maven wasted more time cleaning. He put everything of Thomas’ in boxes. Folding each article of clothing neatly. 

He started inside, washing the bedding and folding it on the bed, covering it all with thick plastic to keep everything clean for when whoever finds the cabin. He scrubbed the floor making the dull and dirty walnut flooring shine. He washed all the dishes, discarded any rotten food, those that would last a long period was stored in a plastic box that Thomas had covered in song lyrics long ago. 

Maven had one last room to clean, the study. Maven rarely had gone in there, it was Thomas’ so he could write songs in peace. Thomas loved keeping the mystery of what the next song would be about. 

Entering the room was like a step back in time, they shut the windows of this room everytime they left just in case it rained. Pages were scattered around the room, some crumpled, some abandoned, some in sheet protectors. Maven pulled one sheet off the desk reading the lyrics, a love song of course. Telling Maven how much Thomas had loved him, how much he cared, how he wanted nothing more than to marry Maven. 

A sob escaped his throat, his knees crashed to the ground. They should have run earlier, should have escaped to Montfort to be happy and safe.

But Maven didn’t know a place like Monfort existed then, he thought no matter where they went they would have to hide, their gender, their blood, their love.

His sobs faded out and Mother’s whispers came back harder than before.

You can’t even clean a room without crying.

I loved him, Mother.

This isn’t how a king should act.

I won’t be king for much longer.

You couldn’t do it if you tried.

We’ll see.

Maven packed all of Thomas’ things away, writing an address on the boxes. It was to be sent to Thomas’ parents house.

Maven stacked all of Thomas’ boxes in the study and went to work on the outside.

He yanked out the weeds in the garden. Many flowers were dead, the freesia, the scarlet red roses, and the peonys. He yanked them out too.

When everything was clean Maven locked the door to the cabin hanging the key on the knob. He went on his way.

The snow was still going strong when Maven had finished. It was now late in the day, around 5 in the evening. The sun would be setting soon.

Maven hummed as he stood in front of the lake, Thomas dashed across his vision, a bright smile, dark skin, grey eyes. Beautiful beyond all other. His metal bladed shoes dancing across the ice and Thomas laughed. He smiled and spun.

Maven always stood to the side when Thomas skated, he was always terrified of cracking the ice and falling in.

He wasn’t scared today.

Thomas stopped skating and stood by his side when Maven stood in the center of the lake.

“Anything from Cal?” Maven shook his head no. He had sent Cal the goodbye hours ago. His cell phone was silent though.

“You should wait, at least for his goodbye.” Thomas gave Maven a sad smile. “He would never forgive himself if he didn’t say goodbye.”

“I can’t do that.” Maven sighed, He warmed his hands, preparing.

“But you don’t want to do this.” Thomas pointed out, “You don’t want to die.”

“No one wants to die, Thomas.” Maven dropped to his knees, melting the ice thinner, it would snap soon.

“MAVEN!’ Maven’s head snapped up, Cal stood at the edge of the shore, Thomas disappeared.

“Cal?” It was barely a whisper, Cal definitely couldn't hear him. 

“Maven! Stop!” Cal shouted loudly, he still had yet to step onto the ice. 

He doesn't want them both to fall in.

No, he doesn't want to fall in, he doesn't care much for how Maven dies. 

Or maybe he does.

Whatever, Maven doesn't care,

“Goodbye, Cal.” The ice broke and Maven felt cold water splash around him. He didn't swim up, instead he sank down. 

He dropped to the bottom, his fingers dug into the sand.

But it wasn't sand.

It was hair. Long blonde hair that falling out of an elaborate bun. The woman's eyes were open staring at Maven. Her eyes the same icy blue as Maven, Mother. 

But this isn't where Mother died.

This isn't how Mother died. 

It's not where Maven would die either. 

He used the bottom of the lake to push up after a good scream. His body was trapped beneath the ice. 

He couldn't warm up and his vision turned dark. With nothing to hold onto Maven went back to sinking to the bottom. His vision black and the breath in his lungs gone. 

In his last moments he heard Cal screaming his name and felt warmth grab onto his shoulders. Maven's vision went black. 


	2. A Puppet with Broken Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maven has a lot of emotions and Cal is gone most of the chapter until he isn't and finds Maven in a bad state. 
> 
> Maven has absolutely no thought process that told him "Hey, I shouldn't do this," just like me. 
> 
> Maven cuts, but not for the traditional reasons, because he forgot what color he bleeds and continues because science and OCD, not like super serious OCD... I don't know... I only have minor OCD, (and also because Elara's voice in his head tells him to)
> 
> Cal might become Maven's worried father at some point lmao. 
> 
> Maven keeps calling Cal her, it's on purpose, figure it out man. 
> 
> Alright one last thing I don't hate Julian, I just think he was awful to Maven and so Maven would hate him too. 
> 
> Also Sara left and isn't coming back to help Maven if he hurts himself because she hates him.

Maven awoke to the feel of warm hands running fingers through his hair. There was no pain and Mother was quiet. 

Was this heaven? The afterlife Iris so proudly discussed? For once Maven was happy Iris was right. 

He opened his eyes, he wondered what heaven was like, would Thomas be there? Thomas deserved to be in heaven much more than Maven. 

“Mavey…” Cal whispered, a tear dropping down his face. When had Cal died? Did he fall into the lake with Maven? Maven reached up, letting his fingers trace the edge of Cal's warm face. Maven was… free.

Free from Mother's manipulation, free from pain, free from the life he was forced to live. He could be himself. 

But who was he?

“I'm so glad you're alive,” Cal pulled Maven to sit upright, holding him close. “I was so scared. Mavey, I thought you were dead.” Maven blinked for a few seconds, but he was dead. They both were, dead and in heaven. 

He didn't want to ruin Cal's dream of life so he scanned the room, the first thing he saw were the boxes he made earlier dumped all over the floor, Thomas’ music sheets the only thing put into a neat pile. 

The next were the 2 people in the room. Sara Skonos and Julian Jacos. How did they die? And why are they in Maven’s heaven? The people that rejected him for his mother are a part of his heaven. Maven went back to questioning Iris’ stupid gods. 

Cal let up on the tight squeeze for half a second before returning it with two times the strength. Wet tears slipped down Maven's bare shoulder from where Cal placed his head. 

“Cal, I think you should back off Maven.” Julian offered helpfully, or more warningly rather than helpful. Maybe this wasn't heaven after all…

Cal hesitated but slowly pulled away. A sort of sadness rippled through Maven, he didn't want to be alone, he lunged forward, pulling Cal back into a hug. 

“Don't leave me alone.” Maven clutched him tight. Cal grabbed him back rubbing his hands on Maven's back. 

“You'll never be alone again.”

And in that moment everything was peaceful.

Turns out Tiberias Calore VII King of Norta and Flame of the north was a fucking liar. He left along with Sara and Julian when Maven passed out. 

All they left was a note saying 

I'll be back, stay here, please.  
Cal 

At least he added the please, right? Whatever it wasn’t like Maven had anywhere else to go.

I knew you couldn’t do it.

Shut up, I did, it just didn’t work.

You’re incapable of doing anything, even ending your own pathetic life.

Maven ignored the comment, moving to find something to do. 

He wandered the house picking up things they had dumped out and reading the pages that Thomas had marked from his favorite novel.

Maven could get up and leave but he didn't care enough to. Instead he cleaned the house again. 

One second his hands were clean the next they were covered in blood. Thick and sticky red blood. Everything he touched was covered in it.

Maven washed his hands, watching scarlet mix with the water. 

Who’s blood is this?

Thomas’? Mare’s? The newbloods? The children from the Dagger legion?

All of their blood. Maybe it was all of their blood. All of it coating Maven’s hands. Sticky and dirty and gross. All this blood on Maven’s hands for a crown and a throne and power. All that power, and it wasn’t even worth it.  
The blood wouldn’t wash off, it was seeping from his hands, maybe it was his blood.

You aren’t some worthless red, you bleed silver. 

Can the colour of your blood change? It has to be able to do that, right? That’s how Silvers came to be.

You bleed silver, go on. Check.

He searched through the bathroom looking for anything to check. He found only Thomas’ old razor.

That would work.

He broke apart the razer grabbing only the blade, he dug the blade into his arm, starting at the elbow ending at the wrist. He watched as silver blood dripped from his wounds. It dropped and fire dances quickly from it but could not burn on the tile flooring. The fires died.

The front door creaked open.

Thomas is home, clean up the blood.

“Mavey?” Not Thomas… Cal? 

That's right Cal was here. 

See I was right?

What was she right about?

You bleed silver.

Do I? He stared down at the silver blood streaming out of his arm. It didn’t see real, what if he only bled silver in certain areas of his body.

For the sake of science Maven set the blade on the shoulder of his left arm pushing it into the skin and dragging the blade slowly down his arm. Silver, silver, silver, silver. 

The line curved to the side, not straight, not perfect. 

One thing, one thing about Maven needs to be perfect. He tried again, this one was better, still, not perfect. He put the blade up for the fourth cut.

“Julian?” Cal shouted, judging by the loudness of his voice he was in the kitchen, “Check on Maven? Make sure he’s still here.”

Was Maven still here? Where is here? 

“Sure,” Julian shouted back, Maven had gotten so distracted by the people he forgot what he was doing. Right, perfect, He dragged the blade slowly from his shoulder down, down, down.

“Cal! He’s not here!” Julian shouted, straight, straight, straight line.

“Mavey!” Cal shouted through the house, “Are you here? Come on out!” 

Obey, obey, obey her.

Maven let the blade drop to the ground opening the door to the bathroom, Cal was there in seconds, scooping him back into a hug. It was warm and strong and full of love. Maven stood still unsure how Cal would want him to respond to the hug.

Only good children deserve hugs, You aren’t a good child.

Then why is he hugging me?

He’s trying to trick you, don’t let him, you’re a bad child, can’t do anything right.

If I’m not perfect, I’m worthless.

Exactly.

“You gave us a scare, why didn’t you let us know you were in the bathroom?” Cal murmured into the top of Maven’s head. Maven liked the way Cal rubbed his hands against Maven’s still uncovered back. The warmth from Cal’s constant body heat would drive most people insane but Maven like it. Like the way it warmed up his ice cold skin, it made him feel like his heart was really beating pumping hot blood through his veins. 

Blood, blood, blood, so much blood.

“Maven?” Julian asked cautiously, when did he get here? “Why are you bleeding?” Cal pushed him back holding his shoulders, looking for wounds. It was cold without his hug but Maven stood strong.

Now he knows, you were bad. He knows you let him hug you when you were bad, you’re in trouble. She will punish you.

“Maven, what happened.” Cal grasped Maven’s wrists lightly, making sure not to put pressure on the cuts. 

Why? Why isn’t he hurting me?

He is, emotional pain hurts more than physical.

Yeah, it does. But he’s not doing that either.

Yes he is, he’s in your mind currently. 

He’ll know all the bad you did.

He’ll hate you.

He’ll punish me.

I deserve it.

“Maven!” Cal shouted his hands tightening, Maven flinched away pulling his wrists panicked, “Maven, answer the question.”

There was a question?

This was a quiz?

Did I fail?

“Why are you bleeding.”

Oh, that.

“Wanted to see if my blood changed,” Cal shot a confused look towards Julian who looked equally confused. Julian, who for some reason is still here, Julian who used to watch Cal and Maven play in the garden and snear, Julian who saw Maven trip over himself all the time as a child and never moved to help him up. Julian, the man who might hate Maven more than Maven hates Maven. 

As always when Julian was around Maven had the sickening urge to lunge at him and squeeze his neck until he sings no longer. But Maven has never heard Julian sing so Julian must have never used his power to hurt Maven, Maven would remember that, right? 

‘Well, in theory but what if he sang for me to forget it.’  
Cal and Julian were still looking confused.

Wasn’t there a test?

Yes, and you failed. You’ve disappointed them and now they will punish you.

Maven tried to swallow but he felt like he was choking, his head pounded with pain. 

Please, not Thomas.

Making you watch him die again is the best way to punish you, they know this.

Begging gets me nowhere.

Then why do you still do it?

I don’t know.

“What do you mean change? Your blood doesn’t change, Maven.” 

Well I know that now. Useless words from a useless big brother.

Do not snark him.

Maven didn’t continue talking to them, deciding instead to walk into the kitchen to see what kind of mess Cal had made.

“Maven!” Cal sure did shout a lot.”Maven, where are you going!” Maven paused, turning around to look his brother straight in the eyes.

“Kitchen.” He went on his way, Julian trailing cautiously behind him. Like a cat stalking a bird.

A pet bird that is actually trapped in a cage it can never escape from a game of chase that could never end in its favour less the cat die of exhaustion. But the bird would still be stuck even with the cat gone.

The puppet would still be a puppet even if the puppet master drops it’s strings.

Cutting the strings are useless, it just gives you a broken puppet.

Maven examined the kitchen. Not too bad, he had expected the worst but Cal had just left a few paper bags out and a freshly washed baking pan covered with potatoes heavily drowned in olive oil. Maven cringed at how oily it would be when he would clean it later. 

“What's all this for?” No answer, both men silent staring at Maven like he was a wild deer that would flee if they moved to fast. He couldn't blame them though, he really might. 

“Um, Maven.” Julian spoke pulling a chair out from the kitchen table shoving the plastic that covered it on the ground, Maven had to hold himself back, “Sit…” Julian gestured towards the chair, Maven glanced at Cal who nodded. With Cal’s permission Maven sat in the chair, the wood was more uncomfortable than Maven had remembered. The wood of the chair pressing hard against his bones.

Was he thinner?

“Give me your arms,” Julian commanded, Maven glared.

“You’re not allowed to touch me,” Maven sneered, he considered pulling a Mare and spitting in Julian’s face but one look at Cal stopped him, Cal was on edge, worried and his eyes danced between the two then to Maven’s blood dripping to the floor, it did not ignite, it did not even smoke, Cal was keeping the fire at bay.

“Maven-” Julian reached forward his fingers moved to wrap around Maven’s arm.

Maven jolted away in panic, he fell out of his chair and scooted himself against the counter, “Don’t touch me.” He begged.

I thought we already established begging gets you nowhere.

Don’t touch me.

You never learn.

Don’t touch me.

They are allowed to touch you, it’s their right, they own you now. 

Don’t touch me.

You’re their problem now.

Don’t touch me.

Stop telling them what to do.

Please don’t touch me.

“Maven?” Cal gently reached forward, Maven didn’t flinch when Cal brushed his fingers against Maven’s cheek. He leaned into the touch. “Maven, can I wrap up your arms?” Maven nodded and Cal smiled, grabbing a roll of bandages to wrap him.  
Wasn’t Skonos here?

“I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this. I would get Sara but we just sent her home…” Cal hesitated pulling his lip between his teeth. “I don’t think she’s coming back,”

Good, I don’t want her to come back. Silence filled the kitchen and Cal continued wrapping Maven’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, btw I doubt I'll write any ships into the story. I never got behind Marecal for some reason (nor Maraven) But everyone's past relationships are still there so Maven did kiss Thomas and Cal did date Mare. 
> 
> Maven might have some fallout with Cal and during the fighting sleep with a bunch of guys for no other reason than he wants to feel something like love.


	3. Lovers in a Different Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal and Maven have established a bit of a routine when a visitor drops by to check on Cal after not seeing him for a while.

Maven flipped through the channels on the television. Cal had bought it to keep Maven entertained when Cal was busy. 

A red-haired girl holding a bow and arrow?

No.

A boy fighting a gigantic dragon?

No.

Two boys bickering while a body lay on the floor?

No.

A girl singing loudly on a stage?

No.

Two boys staring longingly into each other’s eyes?

Hell yeah.

Maven settled into the couch watching the show play, it was an old show, from the previous era. The sound was down low and Maven read the letters at the bottom of the screen. Subtitles helped him know what was going on.

Cal was moving around the kitchen, Cal wasn’t a great cook but he was learning. Maven could hear him moving, clanging spatulas against pans and reading the directions to himself. This had become routine, Cal would attempt to follow the directions perfectly, feed a spoonful of whatever he made, Maven would straight face the usually too bland food and tell Cal it was okay, Cal would then drown it in salt to make it better. It was a nice routine though.

A knock on the door ruined their routine, it started quiet, soft even before it became a banging. Maven pushed his hands against his ears, dropping completely on the couch cushion and curling into a ball. 

“Coming!” Cal yelled walking quickly towards the door.

The banging continued until Cal pulled open the door. Both the intruder and Cal was silent, only the soft murmuring of the show playing.

“Mare…” Cal whispered after a while, she scoffed. Maven removed the hands over his ear, but he still stared only at the screen, not daring to look at Mare. Mare pushed past Cal and into the cottage.

“So what? You’ve been missing all this time because you were watching old fashion shows.” Mare teased Cal, Maven flushed in embarrassment. He slowly stretched over the whole couch, the toes of his feet almost hitting the other arm of the chair.

“Mare, you really should go…” Cal whispered, perhaps attempting to keep Maven from hearing, though Maven was in perfect earshot.

“Why?” Mare demanded, “You show up for mandatory meetings and then vanish. I barely see you anymore.” Maven held back a harsh scoff at her sad tone.

“Mare I’ve been busy…” Cal trailed off, Maven reached forward to set the remote on the wooden coffee table.

“Busy with what! Sneaking off into some woods for who knows what!” Mare yelled, the volume of her voice shook Maven, the smooth plastic of the remote crashing to the ground. The back snapped off and one of the batteries tumbled out, Maven stared in horror tensing each of his muscles.

“What was that?” Mare questioned, her heavy footsteps pounding closer to the couch.

Well, it wasn’t the worse way Maven could have died.

“Maven?” Mare said in astonishment, “I thought you were dead.”

The room buzzed with electricity. Maven watched the batteries roll over the glossy flooring.

“Say something you son of a-” Mare’s face reddened with anger, purple streaks of lightning wrapping around her clenched fist. 

“Mare! Stop!” Cal shouted, grabbing her wrists. The electricity pumped through him and Cal gritted his teeth. It wouldn’t do major damage unless Cal opened the circuit before Mare stops her ability.

Maven didn’t worry for Cal.

But he did at the same time, it was strange. Half of him wished that Mare would end Cal’s life, rid Maven’s world of the presence he always had to compete with til there was nothing but fighting. 

But he also wanted to see Cal live. Cal who pulled Maven from the water, Cal who defended Maven at all cost. He’d have a wife he adores and 2-3 kids that were all very happy with their life.

It was the fantasy Cal always wanted, minus the being king. And in no version of the story did Maven ever fit in it.

Not that he didn’t want to be there. He would spoil those children rotten, feed them too many sweets, be too willing to play their silly games, help with problems Cal couldn’t.

The electricity had disappeared from the air. Cal was safe, more relief than Maven had expected washed over him. He supposed it was because nobody else listens to Maven whine about his brain without losing it on him.

Cal’s a bit like Thomas, but without the dark skin, curly hair, grey eyes, singing ability, red blood, homosexuality, and romantic interest in Maven.

Okay so the only things they have in common is they are both kind and they both give a shit about Maven, for some reason. Cal pulled Mare away and Maven’s eyes drifted back onto the screen.

A dead body greets him, the ebony skin of the body was warmed with orange light.

Fire.

Maven whimpered as the body burned, Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. 

“What are you watching?” Maven’s head hurt, it pounded with anguish as Thomas burned and Maven could, again, do nothing but stare in horror. “What are you watching.” Mare repeated standing in front of him. Maven looked up into her eyes, he tucked his legs up and freed a cushion. She stared.

“What is he doing?” Mare demanded.

“Making space for you,” Cal says, he cards his fingers in Maven’s curly locks, pulling apart knots. Mare narrowed her eyes at him and then the empty seat. “He’s not in a talking mood.”

“Is he going to kick me?” Mare cocked her hip and Maven rolled his eyes.

“No, no.” Cal assured, “He doesn't kick anyone, I doubt he'll even touch you.” 

Cal doesn't have a whole lot to go on here. Maven doesn't move at all for Julian when he wants to sit down and he just ignores Cal after he moves for him. 

Mare flounced down onto the free cushion. Maven considered kicking her just to piss her off but Cal would get yelled at. 

So he didn't. 

Mare was a loud audience member. She yelled at the exciting parts and screamed at the TV catching on to the pattern of the show and the 'who done it’ theme of the episodes. 

Maven never spoke. It wasn't because he wasn't interested in the show nor was it because he didn't know who did it, he was always quicker to get it than Mare or the show. He just didn't feel like it. Cal said it was okay not to do certain things because you don’t want to, does this fit into the category of certain things?

“Are you ready for dinner?” Cal, spoke from behind the couch, Maven nodded slightly.

“I’m starving,” Mare announced, when was it decided that she would be eating with them? Was Maven not listening or did she just invite herself to dinner? Maven shook his head a bit after Mare followed Cal into the other room.

Maven stood and stretched out his back. He slid his socked feet over to the kitchen seat, in the view of Cal. Maven scrubbed his hands with rose scented soap. He picks at the dirt under his uneven fingernails. The heat of the water would have burned anyone else luckily burners were never bothered by heat. He scrubbed all of the dirt and germs from his hands.

When he arrived at the table Mare was piling seasoned chicken with a variety of different vegetables onto her plate.

It was a new dish that felt old, Cal had never made this before but it felt to Maven like he’d seen it before, this sort of scene, this dish, all of it, new and old.

Two lovers sit at a table, one silver one red. The silver laughs as the red takes well over the reasonable amount to eat, squash, zucchini, onions, bell peppers, all on a sheet pan sitting in swirling orange liquid. Chicken seasoned with paprika and cayenne sit on two plates.

No, there’s three plates. Why is there a third plate?

The contrast is off. Why isn’t it paper white with midnight black?

Why is it different?

Why does my head hurt?

Why is my throat all clogged?

It hurts to be here.

“Maven?” Cal worries, looking him in the eye. “Are you okay?” It feels wrong, it feels wrong, I don’t like it here.

Mare watched him with careful curious eyes. Cal didn’t notice the small lightning bolt wrapping around Mare’s index finger, Maven did.

Stop looking at me like I’m an experiment! Like I’m some gross creature you created and now don’t know what to do with!

Stop looking at me.

Cal scooted his chair back, harsh wood on wood sounds. 

Gone. Something is gone, what is gone?

“Maven?” Cal was standing in front of Maven now, “What is it?”

“Gone,” Maven whispered, his head was pounding, it hurt so bad.

“What’s gone?” Cal was always patient with Maven, understanding that Maven sometimes didn’t understand even his own problems, he would understand that Maven didn’t know what was gone either.

Something dear to me, something so important it hurts to not have it. Maven shook his head slowly, confusion, terror, sadness, all evident in his face.

Cal nods, he grabbed Maven’s hand and sat him down at the end of the table. Maven liked this seat, it had the perfect view of the woodscape behind the cottage. Maven could sometimes see bunnies bound across the ground, sweet and cheerful, white like freshly fallen snow. 

“What are you looking at,” Mare demands. He flickered his eyes towards her. He doesn't really want to talk, like at all. So he stares. His stare makes her uncomfortable, which caused her to scoff and turn away angry. Maven direct his view back to the snowy field.

It was empty today, an abyss. Not missing anything for there was nothing there to begin with. Nothing but everything at the same time. There was nothing so that was everything.

Sometimes everything is nothing.

“Is that a good amount?” Maven whirled his head, looking at Cal, who was holding a plate with about a cup of vegetables and one chicken breast.

‘Too much,’ Maven wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in his throat, so he didn’t talk. Cal placed the plate in front of Maven and Maven sighed deeply. Too much.

Cal did most of the talking, Mare did the rest. He talked about how peaceful it was out here, how nice the stove was, ect. Maven stared at his food, it was making Maven sick.

The food itself was good, it smelled nice and looked tasty, however it was too… much.

Too familiar.

Too wrong.

Too right.

Too… Late.

“Do you not like it?” Cal whispered he placed a large warm palm on Maven’s shoulder, Mare analyzed the scene. Maven looked at him, then at the food.

Too warm, but not the kind of warm that burns your tongue. It was the kind that wrapped you up in big hugs, the kind that smelled like rain, the kind that pulls you back in bed.

It’s there, at the tip of his tongue, what is it?

“I found the recipe in the bookcase. I thought you would like it, it had a star and said ‘Maven’s favorite’, so that’s the choice I made.” Cal rambled, Maven tilted his head, this did seem like something he would like, all the vegetables but he still got protein from the meat. “Could it have been…” Cal hesitated he didn’t want to go on Maven hoped he would.

“Thomas’? His recipe I mean.” Cal inquired, it felt to Maven like the world had frozen. 

Oh, Thomas. 

The scene made sense now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seemed a whole lot longer than it actually turned out to be.


	4. A Dream and A Kick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal has a bad dream and Maven has a bad life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use flower symbolism so here's what you need to know.
> 
> 1.) Pink Carnation means mother/woman's love. 
> 
> 2.) Fungus means loneliness. 
> 
> 3.) Black Rose means hatred.

I jolt forward cold sweat runs down my back. I take a deep breath in, out. 

I am okay, it was just a dream. 

I run through the dream. I was screaming, helpless, useless, my body wasn't my own. Maven laid on the ground, surrounded by fungus and roses stained black, a single pink carnation lay under his hands in the middle of his chest, it was wilted and dying. His eyes were closed and thick puppeteering string wrapped his limbs. His arms were a deep grey where the string circled around his wrists and elbows. The ends of the string were chard.

Some of the string was wrapped around his neck. They squeezed and squeezed. 

Maven's head fell off, rolling towards me. 

I woke up after that. 

I began to worry my little brother was hurt. So, I shift to remove myself from the bed and check to make sure Maven was still asleep, and here. However, my legs were pinned down from something. 

In a panic, I kicked the object harshly. It makes a sharp whimpering sound. I felt a little bad for it. It shot off my legs and out of the room. 

I stare after it for a while, confused and a bit scared. I wonder if it was some kind of wild animal, maybe Mare left the door open when she left and it walked in for warmth. 

The thought of a wild animal in the house only worried me more. I sprung from my bed and rushed to my brother's room. 

The door was open, which wasn't uncommon, Maven likes open doors on his good days. I think it lets him know where he can and can't go in his head. 

However, Maven hasn't been having good days recently. He has had his door shut and locked. He rarely came out and when did it was late at night or when I wasn't home. 

At least he was eating. 

Maven wasn't in bed he wasn't sitting on the blanket tracing words into the wall with the pad of his finger mumbling to himself. 

I searched the room. He wasn't under the bed holding a singular black box, He wasn't curled up in the closet using clothing to pull his face out of view. 

I rushed out searching for my brother. He wasn't in the bathroom pushing sharp razor blades into the skin on his thighs. 

He wasn't lying on the couch watching a black screen and mumbling to himself with a heavy blanket to weigh him down and with five glasses full of different liquids in front of him. No tea, cranberry juice, apple juice, Almond Milk, or Water. Just a small paper covered in graphite scribbles. 

He wasn't sitting at the dining room table with a plate of uneaten carrot sticks in front of him, glaring at them harshly until he shoves it off the table leaving shattered shards of pink bone China scattered across the floor only to watch as I carefully clean up the mess. 

He wasn't outside laying face down in the snow unmoving, he wasn't being trampled by bunnies and a stray cat that visits often. He didn't pack in a bunch of snow and throw it pitifully at my face only for it to land far away from my feet. 

He was in the kitchen. But he wasn't in the kitchen tapping the blade of the chefs knife against his palm and he also wasn’t on the table staring at the floor whispering to himself and losing breath he didn’t scream like he sometimes did when I stepped onto the floor, he wasn’t wriggling around digging his nails into his eyes pleading for something though never clear enough what.

He was instead curled up into a ball staring at me with a trickle of silver blood running down from his nose, his eyes were empty of all life, his body stiff and still, his breathing, if he was breathing at all, was at a minuscule amount.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered his voice was quiet, soft and pained, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.” I walk towards him, my bare feet padding against cold tile, he squishes himself into a tighter ball, hiding his face from my view.

“What happened?” I kneel down and gently pull his face back into view, his silver blood was smudged against his cheeks. 

Maven went silent staring at my eyes with confusion and fear in his. “You kicked me,”

Oh, whoops.

“Why were you on my bed, Mavey?” I wipe the blood away with the sleeve of my nightshirt. He shrugs lightly and with no confidence. 

I sigh and pick him up, his legs dangling over my forearms and his body goes limp in my grasp. 

He does this anytime I pick him up, the first time was when he had collapsed onto the living room floor and just huddled in a ball hiding his eyes from the TV full of hanging corpses, it was a documentary on Salem Witch Trials from the previous era. 

I had to pick him up and carry him back to his room but the second I got him securely into my arms he dropped his hands from hooking around my neck and let his head fall back. I got so confused I dropped him and he slammed his head into the coffee table. 

It was a horrific experience and so when I grabbed him I hold his head securely to my chest. He accepted the hold like he always did.

I carry him out of the kitchen, stopping in front of the light switch. Maven reaches out and flicks it off, we were plunged into darkness. I would worry about tripping on something if Maven wasn’t obsessed with cleaning.

I walk down the hallway but Maven shoots out his hand, I stop. He grabs the handle to the bathroom and shuts the door, he then points to his room, I walk towards it and he pulls it shut quickly then goes back to laying limp in my arms. 

He squirms a bit as we pass the study, he stretches his left foot out and lets it graze the wooden door before pulling away and into my chest.

I still haven’t had time to check out the study. I don’t want Maven to know I’m searching through his stuff and every time I have tried to sneak in Maven is laying on the floor in front of it humming tunes that I don’t recognize.

The first time he was there I considered moving him but when I touched him he flinched away and then repeatedly smacked his head into the wall while screaming.

I don’t bother him when he’s humming anymore.

Finally, we reached my room. I lay him on the bed. He looked like a child who had a long day and fell asleep in the car, his hair ruffled, eyes fluttering open and close, he looked so small. Well, he did, right before he jolted up and skittered over to the end of the bed, curling into a ball. 

He stayed there and I sighed, settling under the covers. Maven chased my feet, laying on top of them before passing out. 

“Oh Maven,” I whisper, “what am I supposed to do with you?”


	5. Dr. Era and the Puppet Made of Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal suggests therapy, Maven agrees to go but of course it isn't a great first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an awful human being, November 14th was when I updated last, how could I do this to you. I had 3 chapters completed, why didn't I post????

“I have an idea,” Cal states firmly when he throws open the door, Maven pops his head up from the couch.

“You have ideas?” Maven scoffed, “That would require thoughts and, Cal, we both know you don’t have thoughts running through that dull head of yours.” 

“Hey! I’m not some airhead!” Cal scolds and Maven sinks back onto the couch with a quiet ‘Uh-huh,’ “I want to send you to therapy.”

“You want to send me to where?” Maven fiddles with his flamemaker bracelet.

“To therapy,” Cal coughs a bit, “And it wasn’t actually my idea, it was Mare’s so if you have a problem with it blame her.”

“I knew it,” Maven whispered, “Tell Mare I think it’s a good idea.” Though Maven couldn't see him he could sense Cal's proud and excited smile. 

“I’m glad you’re so cooperative,” Cal practically skipped away.

This is a terrible idea.

The first day was a disaster, Maven didn’t want Cal around for his first meeting with Doctor Era but he didn't know how to express his preference and thus Cal sat outside the office while Maven was the most difficult person in the world. 

“Why are you here?” Dr. Era asked in a calm and indifferent voice, Maven stays quiet and instead scans the room. 

The office was a disorganised mess, photos scattered around, the couch was slanted. 

It was a nightmare. 

Her questions were too vague or too personal. The room was too messy. 

She looked too much like his mother. So he left feeling worse then when he came in.

Cal didn’t make dinner that night, he hadn’t set out anything to defrost, there was no recipe sitting on the kitchen table surrounded by different ingredients, there were no pots bowls or measuring spoons. Just him sitting there on a wooden stool phone pressed to an ear, shaking his head. He didn’t seem exactly upset, more like playful arguing. Maven stood in the entrance to the kitchen, his bare feet soaking up coolness of the tiles. To keep himself busy he increases the heat in his feet sporadically warming the flooring. It felt like something Maven did before. Before what was unknown, but before. And after, after something and before something else.

“Okay, see you tonight, Mare.” Cal pulled the cell from his ear and pressed the end call button. He stood up, stretching his back. He let out a pleased sigh, Maven felt nerves crawl his body. Why was he standing here?

Cal turns and jumps when he saw Maven. “Oh! Maven, did you need something.” Maven took a breath, he did but what it was is now lost, washed away like blood under a faucet.

“I hate therapy,” Cal sits back down, sensing this may be a longer talk, Maven sits beside him, fiddling with his flamemaker bracelet. A sign of weakness, nervousness Mother would have reprimanded him for, but with Cal it was okay, Cal would keep him safe. Not that he ever had before but now that he knows maybe he could help, that’s why he’s sending him to therapy right? To help?

“It’s your first day, maybe you just aren’t used to it,” Cal offers, voice kind and understanding though a hint of aggravation slipped out. It burned the soft inner parts of his ears, he broke into sweat. He upset Cal.

“I mean, I don’t like the person…” He trailed off trying to focus on the sound of soft music playing. A stum of a guitar and voice sweet like sugar. “She looks too much like Mother and her office is too messy. I don’t feel comfortable there.”

Cal nodded pressing his lips together and making a ‘hmm’ sound. The point of therapy was to make Maven better, to make him feel more comfortable and if it’s doing the opposite then something would have to change, but there weren’t many therapists in Norta, especially ones that would keep Maven a secret. Though legally they couldn’t discuss their patients most would be thrilled to tell the Scarlet Guard the ex-king still lives.

“Alright, go to one more session and if you still don’t like it we will find a new one, okay?” Maven nods, it was a fair deal, Cal smiled.

“What’s for dinner?” Maven wasn’t hungry, Maven was never hungry, just curious.

“You think you’re up to going out? Greek?” Cal smiled warmly, Maven used to love greek food as a kid, Maven isn’t sure if it kept with him or if Mother had erased all his preferences. Maven nods. “I invited Mare, is that okay?” Maven nods again.

It wasn’t going to be okay, Maven knew that. Maven would sit silently not eating waiting to join into a conversation never meant for him. This entire life was never meant for him. Maven wasn’t supposed to live in a cabin, he wasn’t supposed to get an occasional smile from Mare, he wasn’t supposed to be a third wheel that creates a tricycle for two people that grew out of tricycles years ago. His life was stolen from an unknown, someone who deserved better, improved faster.

Maven wasn’t improving.

Cal thought dinner went well. Cal and Mare held the conversation, and by held the conversation Maven means they discussed old stories from the Scarlet Guard, something Maven couldn’t join into, so he sat quietly. When the food came Mare and Cal took turns taking bites and telling stories, cracking jokes.

Maven didn’t eat. No one noticed. The server tapped him on the shoulder and offered a box, he took it with a solemn face.

Food was packed, bill was paid, hell Maven even put back on his shoes. All that was left was for Cal to say goodbye and take Maven home, where he didn’t have to watch as they ignored everything Maven did. Cal seemed to have other plans, sitting and still chatting with Mare while Maven taps the table with the pads of his fingers. Impatience gnaws away at Maven’s insides, the feeling of nothingness replacing what had been lost. Not nothingness as in he was empty, nothingness as in he was nothing. Not there nor here, not anywhere. Never there and never will be.

Maybe Maven was as evil as they said he was. 

Maybe he was a puppet made of anger rather than wood.

Maybe he was the puppet master. 

He didn’t know any of that, all he knew was he was no longer important to Cal’s life.

It was probably for the best, he wouldn’t be missed too much when he was gone.

He kind of wanted to be missed. 

He wouldn’t be, but he wanted it.

She wasn’t missed, the people cheered while Maven mourned the loss of his mother. The people cheered when Maven had supposedly died. No one mourned him, no one would ever mourn him.

Maven stood from the table, his chair made sound but it was drowned out from the chatter. His absence wasn’t missed as he slid into the restroom, he scrubbed his hands clean, watching the water swirl into a whirlpool before dropping down the drain. He dried his hands avoiding eye contact with his own image.

A little girl, no more than 7 entered clutching a stuffed animal.

“This is the girls bathroom,” She announced with confidence, however her confidence didn’t make her right. Maven glanced at her, expecting her to be some higher level silver that thinks she knows everything.

She wasn’t, her lips were too pink, clothes too dirty, stuffed animal too ragged. She was red.

A very cute little red, with curly black hair floating around her head, her eyes grey and shone with kindness.

“Okay,” Maven said and stepped out of the bathroom. Leaving the girl to her own devices. 

“I was just kidding!” She shouted after him. She caught his pants leg and he turned to her, “Can't believe you fell for that.” 

“Sorry.” Maven mumbled. She gave him a smile then zoomed into the girls bathroom instead. 

Maven shook his head, choosing to walk away and back to the table. 

Nobody was at the table, Maven’s lone box of food sitting where he left it. He picks it up, examining it slightly. He did love Greek food, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore.

He walked out in search of Cal, the cardboard box left on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girl in the bathroom was originally Thomas' sister however I scrapped that idea for I had a better way for him to meet Thomas' family in a much later chapter.


	6. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal searches for a therapist Maven can stand and Maven likes tragic romance books.

Maven stormed out of the office, full on stomping, huffing, anger. He was pissed and the heat spilling from his body proved it. 

So it was decided, I would look for a new therapist.

The first one was a younger guy, he had blonde hair and silver blood, Maven slapped him mid-session and was escorted out.

The second was an old woman, Maven mentioned her conservative views of blood equality once and I was searching for a new one, Maven didn’t like her anyways.

The third was too pushy.

The fourth had too high of a voice.

I almost gave up looking, they had gone through every single good therapist in all of Norta. That’s when Mare saved me.

“You keep choosing silvers,” She notes looking at the different files of therapists.

“Well, yeah,” I comment looking through the information on the current doctor, “I don’t want him to blow up and a red to not be able to defend themselves.” 

“Based on what you’ve told me he’s only hurt one of them,” She dropped the file letting it fall to the ground, “And that was a slap, he didn’t even try to burn them.”

“What are you suggesting?” I rub my eyes exhausted, I’ve been reading for far too long. 

“There was this therapist back in the stilts, she specializes in people who have PTSD from the Lakelander war.”

“I’ll give it a try, after all, it’s not like I can find anything better to do.”

___

Maven sat quietly in the chair, examining the woman. She was on the shorter side with Black hair pulled into a loose ponytail, the black hair greyed from age. Red blushed her cheeks, that was new, everyone else had looked like corpses, like Maven.

“I’m Dr Sataou.” She pulls a bowl from a shelf behind her and offers it’s contents to him.

“Is it poisoned?” Maven doesn’t know why he thought she would tell him if it was. She laughed and shook her head no, he picked up a sucker from the bowl sticking it in his mouth.

“Is there anything you might want to talk about?” She asked Maven thought for a second.

“No.” She smiled and nodded.

“Well, I have a few topics I thought you might want to discuss, just reject them if you don’t want to.”

___

Cal drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of the car. It wasn’t as nice as the ones he drove in at the palace however it wasn’t bad either. It didn’t attract attention in more common areas, however, it did in the poorer areas. Areas once made for reds, like here, a couple dirty children stare at the car from a distance whispering and giggling.

Maven walks out of the building his face hidden by a hooded sweatshirt the kids stare at him now or, more importantly, his bag. They crowd him and Cal prepares to jump out and save them.

Maven kneels down handing them the bag. They rip through it until they hand back something. He takes it, placing it in the pocket of his jeans and moves along leaving the bag with the children.

He climbs into the car, shutting the door behind him. He slumps into his seat not even bothering to put his seatbelt on.

Cal reaches across pulling the strap safely across Maven’s chest.

Maven didn’t complain, didn’t shout or huff, nothing. Cal didn’t know if that meant he liked the therapist or not. Cal sat in uncomfortable silence, wanting to ask but not willing to shatter that small hope that Maven may have finally found a therapist he likes.

“She was fine.” Maven comments, “I know you wanted to ask.” He adds, as to make it clear this wasn’t the kind of conversation he truly wanted but he would put up with it. 

“Are you willing to go again?” He doesn’t answer Cal’s question choosing to stare out the window instead.

___

“What kind of cereal do you want?” I ask Maven. There was no answer, I turn to look at him, he’s gone. “Are you kidding me?” I scoff dragging the cart out of the aisle to find him. “It’s like watching a toddler, he’s an adult now and I have to make sure he has one hand on the cart at all times so he doesn’t wander off.”

This was really all Dr Satou’s fault, suggesting I take Maven with me to normal and mundane tasks so he can experience it all in a “safe and controlled way.” But I guess him sneaking off in a grocery store is better than him dashing out of the house to the palace or something as equally dangerous. Maven was doing better, he didn’t complain about therapy, he didn’t talk about it either though. 

Maven is staring at books, dragging his finger along the spines, he pulls one out and reads the back before putting it back and repeating the process. I choose to sit and watch, waiting for him. It’s not like I have anywhere to be today.

He finally flips through one, reading the first few pages. “Found one you like?” I question, Maven did not flinch, he wasn’t startled, he reads for a few more seconds before acknowledging me

“It’s okay.” He says tossing it back on the shelf, “Are we almost done?”

“Yeah, just a few more things.” My eyes caught back to the book, ‘The Fault in our Stars’ it read. I toss it into the cart and continued our shopping trip.


	7. A Letter,  a Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal is called back to the palace to pick up some of Maven's old things.

Maven loved his new book, reading it quickly and then rereading it. I guess sometimes I forget that Maven is still the brother I’ve known my whole life, he always was a reader. I bought him more and more books and he whizzed through them. Currently, he is flipping through the pages of his most recent book, he is always more serene looking when he was reading, no risk of self-inflicted pain, no staring as if he can see right through me, and no empty blue eyes.

My phone buzzes on the table, I sigh picking it up and leaving Maven on the couch to his stories.

“Calore.” Farley says as though my name was acid on her tongue, I suppose Farley may never truly like me, “We found a few things in your… brother’s old room.” She sighs, I shoot a look to Maven who is still reading, “We thought you may like to have them.” 

I shift slightly, Maven catches the movement and turns his head just enough for his ear to better catch the conversation but not enough for most people to see him do it. Hell, a few months ago I wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Sure, I’ll come to get them.” I tell her, “How’s around 15:00 work for you?” 

“Noon.” She states, Maven had therapy ending at 11:30, I would have to take him with me to get there at noon, and bringing Maven anywhere near Archeon is a gigantic no.

“I’m busy at noon, can’t I just get them at 15?” I try to convince her.

“Cancel, I don’t have time to reschedule for the likes of you and your murderer of a brother.” She hung up. I sigh not sure what to do.

___

Maven couldn’t skip the only thing that’s keeping him together and I can’t leave Farley waiting so I asked Mare to take him for me, Julian taking him would have caused a hissy fit and I wasn’t going to ask Mare until she suggested it herself.

So here I am, back in Archeon, standing in the monotoned room my brother grew up in, most of his things were moved to the attic, some politician lived here now as was evident thanks to the forest green blanket thrown on the bed in an attempt to lighten up the room.

Farley pulls out a box from under the bed, it was thick black metal, I stare at it.

“What’s in it?” I ask I had never seen it before.

“Look for yourself,” She scoffs shoving it into my hands. I sit in the chair beside the door and pull the lid off with a loud clink when the lid dropped to the hardwood.

A metal chain sits on top of all the contents, I pull it out, is that… a dog tag?

The name is melted and warped. I can read what's possibly an H or an N, an S, and I think that's an O, not a 0. 

I set it down on the floor beside the lid and moved to the next object, a barely identifiable heart sat on a piece of paper, the edges of the paper were burnt however I was able to read a good majority of the note on the back. 

[De]ar Mave[n?]

Happy 16th birthday!!! You're so oldddd now. I remember when you were young and vibrant, bouncing with energy and demanding I match your enthusiasm. I'm sure you'll be easier now that you are all teened up. 

Lov[e] [No name]

A whole stack of similar ones for each birthday up until his 100s sat in an envelope, it was always signed with, “Love” no name. 

I put them on the floor. 

Those letters took up most of the area within this box and thus the only few things left were a flower pressed and preserved in a plastic case, a pencil nibbled on often judging by the bite marks, and a box of coloured pencils I had given him for his seventeenth birthday. Last was a coloured picture of some boy, he had dark skin and grey eyes. A smile made him look kind, colours mix in the background, light pinks and purples fill the background, I place everything back.

“Thought you’d want it. Not any use for us.” Farley commented, now back in the doorway. I didn’t say anything, instead I nodded. I thought deeply of the dark skinned boy, I’ve never seen him before but the red tones to his lips made me believe he was the infamous Thomas.

“Thank you,” I told her, she nods and pushes off the doorway to walk away.

I went home.

In a tired haze I unlocked the door, I hear the thumping of feet briefly as I open the door. Mare stares at me with shock on her face.

“What the fuck?” She asks.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her setting the bag I had collected from Archeon on the ground.

“Maven just…” She pauses looking down to the ground hidden by the sofa, “Bolted.” She finished.

“He was sitting by your feet?”

“No, he was sitting by the door and now-” She cuts herself off with a squeak and pulls her legs off the ground, the lightbulb above her pops, “What is he doing!” She shouts alarmed.

I race over to see Maven on the ground trying to squeeze through the space under the sofa.

“Maven?” I question him, he wiggles faster, “What are you doing.”

He stops to look at me. His eyes lock with mine, “Playing hide and seek.” He states as though we were dumb for not knowing.

“With who?” Mare growled. Maven stares at her and then resumed his wiggling. I sigh lifting the couch slightly letting him fit under it. He rolls under in a haste.

“How was your day, Mare?” I question when I lowered the couch being especially careful not to crush him with the legs.

“We got McDonalds,” She lowered her feet back to the ground cautiously, I see Maven’s hand shoot out and he steals her shoe. She gasps and glares at where his hand had been. Maven giggles a bit under the couch. “And ice cream.” She finally finished.

I snort watching the exchange, “That’s good, he forgets to eat a lot.” I hear a small “Psh” under the couch. 

“Yeah, did you know he puts honey on chicken nuggets?” She questions, I nod. He puts honey on anything, “After we came back here and he sat by the door while I watched TV.”

“Was he waiting for me?” 

“No.” Maven barks from beneath the couch, he reaches out his hand to hit my ankle. 

“You’re bad at hiding.” I tell him. He goes silent, hiding beneath the couch once more.  
“Probably.” Mare says and Maven mumbles more. She smiles.

“Did you hear something, Mare?”

“No,” She responded shaking her head with a playful tone. I hear a loud thump.

“Owie.” Maven says, I pull up the couch to see him clutching his hand.

“Found you.” I told him and pulled him out. He frowned and let himself be dragged.

“Sad.” He says while letting his head drag along the hardwood.

I watch him squirm a bit when I drop his ankles. He lays on the floor watching Mare watch him. It was a strange sort of “who's going to back away first,” game. 

Mare lost when she moved to the other side of the couch to flee from his stare.


	8. Burned and Shocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.

Mare’s smooth skin gleams under the soft light of the living room. She pulls her hair into two braids, it drips slightly on the floor.

She must have redyed it recently because the trails of translucent purple stain her white tank top.

She stretches, arching her back and curling her toes.

“Stop staring,” I remind myself.

She turns to look at me, my heart stops at her dark eyes, “I wasn’t even looking at you,” She scoffs, I turn away to stare at the television. She sighs and gets up, blocking my view temporarily before wandering out of the room. My eyes follow her unconsciously, I can’t even take my own advice apparently.

I continue watching even after she disappears. I can hear her bare feet drop on the hard tile in the kitchen. I hold my breath.

I’ll follow Mare around the house, everywhere except the kitchen.

And the bathroom… I feel like I should clarify that even if I WANTED to Mare would never let me sit on the floor listening to her shower.

Thomas used to. He’d sit me in the bathroom and would crack jokes about having me come in with him to help him reach his back, as if that is what happened. He’d check my mood, see how I’m feeling and if he decided I was happy enough he’d pull me in on “accident” And then well I was already wet.

“Hey, Maven?” She shouts from the kitchen, “Come help me find the coffee please?”

I stood up, it was on the top shelf so Mare couldn’t reach. Cal did it, not me. But if she wanted coffee who was I to deny her of it, even if it was disgusting. “Top shelf!” I shouted, still not totally willing to step into the kitchen. 

I hear a bit of ruckus until I heard her crash to the floor, “Fuck!” I shift around a bit. I should go help her. I grab my blanket and wrap it around myself. I don't really need it, but I enjoy it. 

She was standing in front of the shelf, the wrong shelf if I might add, she rubs her tailbone with a wince. I flush. 

I walk over to the correct shelf. My hand reaches out to grab the bag. The blanket drops from around me. The smell of coffee makes my nose wrinkle. I turn around to give it to her. 

I shouldn't have walked into the kitchen. 

I hold my breath. It isn't real. Mare just wanted coffee and she's doing fine. 

The fire didn't stop burning though. 

“Maven, give me the coffee,” Mare demands. I couldn't move to hand it to her. I wouldn't be able to hold myself together if I moved. If I grazed her skin and it wasn't fine, and everything was real. “Maven!” she shouts and grabs the bag from my hand. 

I can feel heat, I can feel cold, it takes a lot to bother me or seem abnormal to me. 

Mare was hot. 

Burning hot actually. 

Fire hot, ash hot, Thomas hot, bad hot. 

She turns away to proceed her coffee making. Still on fire. 

Doesn't she know? Doesn't it hurt?

She'll die.

I pick up the blanket as she rips open the bag, a couple beans fall the the ground like stones. She measures, I sneak forward, holding the blanket open. 

The measuring cup drops to the floor and more dark brown beans coat the floor. I'm careful when yanking her back. I protect her head when she drops to the floor. I don't want her to hurt, I hit the flames with the blanket.

Suffocate the flames. 

Mare kicks, yells a couple swear words and even hits me. But I won't let her burn. I won't make this mistake again. 

My body seizes, I'm in pain, I can't move. 

“I told you to let me go,” She growled. She was angry, angry and scared. She scampered away and yes, technically I was no longer being electrocuted but I WAS in too much pain to move. I lay there, waiting to die. 

“Mareeee?” Cal yells now standing above me, “Why is Maven crying on the kitchen floor?”

Mare didn't answer. He wraps me in my blanket, mysteriously free of burns, and places the now burrito me onto the part of the couch farthest from Mare.

It's a 3 cushion couch. That's not very far. 

Mare curls her legs up to her chest, Cal frowns. “What happened?” He directs the question at Mare. When she begins to shake and curl up tighter he turns his attention to me.

He doesn't expect me to tell the truth. 

Why try if he won't listen anyway.

Silence stays in the room, Cal sighs. 

“Maven…” He begs, “Just tell me what you did, we can fix it, I promise.”

Excuse me?

I just tried to help. 

She electrocuted me.

I wanted to save her. 

Can't I even do that right?

I turn away from Cal, he isn't allowed to see the tears, the anger, the hurt. 

Me or him, she chose him. 

Me or her, he chose her. 

And they wonder why I listened to Mother. Me or anyone, she chose me. She gave her life to improve mine and I screwed it up. 

Mare didn’t look at me but I could see the brand I left her with on her collar. A thick scar that had faded into an almost normal skin tone. It’s still there, shown off in her tank top. 

I liked it once. A symbol of my love for her. 

I don't like it anymore.

Well, that's not true.

I don't like that I hurt her. I don’t like that I scarred her and burned her. 

But I like that she kept it. I'm not sure why she did but I do enjoy that she kept a constant reminder of me on her body, after all she could have easily have it removed by a healer. 

There’s probably a different reason she kept it.

“Mare was on fire,” I informed Cal, breaking the silence, “So I put her out and then she electrocuted me.”

“I was not on fire,” Mare lies to Cal. I don’t know why she’s lying to him, she’s okay now there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

“She was.” I shoot back to Cal.

Listen to me.

Believe me.

I just wanted to help.

Mare just shakes her head.

Cal sighs, this was going to be a long night.


	9. Mirror Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maven wants to heart to heart with Cal but Julian's presence and his own anxiety stops him.

“I'm sad.” I admit to the mirror, preparing to talk to Cal, “Tell him how you feel,” the therapist had advised him, as if it was that easy. 

“He's not going to care anyways.” Mother advised, a real worry unlike that of her usual demanding worry. A loving, motherly worry “I don't want you to get hurt,” kind of worry. 

“I know he won't,” I admit to her reflection. Yes, it was her reflection in the mirror and not my own. 

My own… that's new, maybe the therapist was really doing something, I'm referring to myself as myself, usually it's “Maven” or “He” never “Me”. 

“I'll play along,” Thomas’ flirtatious smile answered. He replaced the sharp features of his mother. 

“Oh Maven,” Thomas’ voice lowered to imitate Cal, “What is it that's making you so sadddd,” He drags his index finger down from his tear duct to his chin. 

Maven had a speech planned, a list complaints, reasons he was upset but seeing Thomas made him freeze, how could he even think about complaining to the man he killed?

“It's okay, Baby.” Thomas reassures, “You can tell me.”

“I'm sad because I…” I trailed off, this was impossible, “I'm lonely.” I guess that one was the truest one. 

“That was so good, I'm so proud of you.” Thomas praised me. I stare at him, “Now go tell Cal.”

“If I leave, you'll disappear again.” I touch the cold glass, he wasn't really there, but I couldn't help but wish he was. 

“I'll always be here for you.” He presses a kiss into the space my hand hid. My palm tingles a bit. 

I gather my courage slowly, fixing my hair, glancing to check that Thomas was still there, and tapping my fingers against the counter in a steady and relaxing rhythm. 

I take a deep breath and pull open the bathroom door. My steps were fragile and my feet ghosted over the flooring, I should turn back, I should give up and hide from his rejection. I should lie Doctor that I did as she requested and they had a warm heartfelt talk.

Go back

Yes, I should turn around and head to my room.

Give up, lay down, take a nap.

A nap.

Don’t put yourself in a position of weakness for someone who doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care.

My stomach dropped, I hadn’t had time to turn and run and now I was standing in the dining room. Cal and Julian had yet to notice him so I had time, I could walk away.

“Oh,” Cal says, startled by my presence, “Mavey, do you need something.”

“You’re this far Maven,” Thomas encouraged, rubbing the small of my back. I felt the pressure, but it wasn’t real.

Oh, Maven, you know he’s dead.

I know, Mother.

Stop bringing him back you’re only hurting yourself.

“No, I don't” I answer, my plans had been thrown out the window when Julian came into view, “I don't need anything, I mean.”

That’s right Maven, he doesn’t care.

No, Julian never cared.

“Julian doesn’t need to care,” Thomas whispered, his lips brushed my ear. I held back a squeak at the touch, “But Cal cares, he always has.”

I can’t tell him not with Julian here.

Julian never loved you, I loved you.

Mother loves me.

“I love you.” Thomas reassures. I blink a bit, watching him from the corner of my eye.

Cal loves me

No he doesn’t.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Cal commented, softer than the harsh grate of Mother’s voice but still harsher than the silk of Thomas’, “Why don’t you come sit?” He pats the seat next to him.

“Cal,” Julian warns, “I don’t think it’s okay for him to sit in.”

“Oh?” Cal challenged, “He might ruin our plans to build roads, is that it?”

“You’re building roads?” I ask, taking the seat Cal had offered, “That’s a good idea.” It is a good idea, roads connect a nation, increase trade, and allow for easier military protection. But if you have a rebellion within your country it may allow for more violence and easier access to the capital, which is why I never built them.

Cal nods scribbling down a note he must have come up with. I let my eyes wander a bit, I want to talk to him but Julian was staring at me. 

“What?” I snarl at him, Cal sighs beside me, he has to be so sick of our fighting. 

“Your eyes,” He comments as if it makes any sense.

“What about them?” 

“They really are your mother’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how do you think Maven feels about Julian's comment on his eyes?
> 
> Also, I'm aware of how short this is so you can expect the next chapter within a week :)


	10. Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yikes

Cal is back in Archeon.

You’re alone.

I’m alone.

Always alone.

Always.

The mirror stares me down.

Your mother’s eyes.

They’re my eyes.

Hers.

Mine.

Is there a difference?

Yes.

No

There should be.

No there shouldn’t.

I don’t want her eyes.

You are her.

“I am not.” I whisper I began to chant it, “I am not, I am not, I am not her.” I continue the chant, getting louder with each word, I watch my reflection twist and distort in the mirror. My hand is moving, heading towards my face.

A glare on the sharp metal blade from the lights.

I don’t want to watch.

You’re doing this to yourself.

“I am not her.” I watch the blade creep closer to my face, “I will not be haunted by her eyes. I will not!” I shout. 

Silver.

All I see in my left eye is silver. My right eye struggles to stay open, to watch the flames on the sink and counter.

“Now the other one,” I say trying to move through the pain.

Stop, you’ve made your point.

I won’t have her eyes.

“I’m not her!” I scream I wrench my head back ready to impale myself on the knife.

“Mavey!” Cal screamed, he grabs me, one arm around my waist the other squeezing my hand holding the knife, he squeezes harder, I gasp in shock at the pain, my hand drops the blade.

Cal yanks me from the bathroom and pins me on the hall floor. I scream as he holds my hands down.

“I won’t have her eyes!” I scream at him, I’m angry, I want him to let go, let me finish what I started.

“You were going to kill yourself!” Cal screamed I see a few angry tears flow down his face. I stop struggling.

“It would have been better than this.”

“What?” I could feel him stop breathing; I hurt the only person who cared enough to fake concern and love. But I couldn't take this anymore.

“Being here!” I sob, “Alone with Mother, all day!”

There it was, the secret I had held so long, Mother didn’t die, she’s here. She talks to me.

“You hear her?” He whispered, He seemed to freeze, he believes me, he doesn’t think I’m crazy.

“Yes.”

Cal gets off of me, “Don’t move, don’t move an inch.” He pulls out his cell phone and dialed a number; he wandered out of the room. I do as he asked. I should reach over and grab the knife, finish the job but he’d be even angrier, I would be even more of a disappointment.

After a few minutes, Cal comes back into the room, “Get up.” He orders, I try to, but when I get to my knees, I fell over. He grabs me, Picking me up and sitting me on the counter. He pulls on the roll of toilet paper. After grabbing a big bunch, he hands it to me. 

“Hold it over your eye and get on my back.” I push it on my eye and wrap my legs around his back. I hang on with my arms wrapped around his neck, One hand still pressing against my eye.

He half walked, half ran, to his cycle laying hidden off a bit in the distance.

“It’s gonna be okay, Mavey.” He whispered to me. We get on and he clumsily fastened the helmet around my skull.

I can kind of see a trail of flames from where my blood dropped to the earth, Cals’ shirt also sparked and burned on and off. As if he was suppressing it just barely. Not paying enough energy to do it fully.

He drove off, racing through the trees and onto a dirt road. I want to scream as dirt kicks up and covers me, I stay good for Cal though.

“Hey!” Screams a woman that Cal just barely swerves around, “Watch it!”

I turn my head to get a better look at her, and she freezes in her tracks.

Well hello Farley, good to see you too.

“Shit.” Cal curses. He keeps driving though. I watch the scenery flash by in a mix of silver and green. It blurs a bit.

Cal stops in front of a hospital, he pulls me off and barely takes the time to set up his cycle to not topple over. We rush through the doors and…

Oh, this isn’t going well.

Every doctor in the entire facility stops and stares at me; I flash them a smile.

I’m too dizzy to do much else.

“You legally can’t deny him treatment.” Cal tells them, “So help him!”

They nod rushing forward and grabbing me away from Cal. I comply, holding back a scream for my big brother to follow. He’s pulled away by someone else though.


	11. Maven Makes (and Loses) a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the chapter title is pretty self explanatory

“How long does he have to be here?” I beg the doctor. I know Maven has to be here, I know it's for the best, but still…

“Mr. Calore,” Doctor Cane starts, “We haven't even identified his issues.”

“He hears his dead mother's voice in his head, it seems pretty clear to me!” I huff frustrated. 

“It isn't that simple,” He keeps his calm tone, I guess he's been stuck with people with worse tempers than me. “Maven shows signs of multiple mental illnesses.” 

It never can be easy, can it?

“Like what?” I ask the doctor hesitates.

“Although Maven signed a consent form allowing you to peak through his file I don't think this is information he's ready to share,” Cane explains, “Especially when we don't have a more clear understanding of him.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Cane smiles before pulling out a clipboard.

“I'd like you to answer a few questions,” He requests, “It'll help us find out more about him.”

“Of course!” I exclaim, excited to help, “Ask away.”

“When did his Mother start whispering to him?”

Oh, right into it then. 

“I'm not entirely sure,” He nods at my answer I shift, “But I remember him showing a lot of fear towards his mother when he was starting to walk, he was a late walker and it irritated Elara.”

I see Cane hesitate, I guess he was thinking. “I see,” He finally answers, “And what age did he start walking?” 

“I was almost four at the time…” I calculated the math in my head, “Like 1-2 years old.”

“When did he start speaking?”

“I can't remember,” 

“That’s understandable,” Cane reassures. “Did he start having speech issues around the time of 7 to 13?”

“He used to mix up words a lot, he doesn’t do that anymore.” I tell him, “What does this have to do with anything.”

“Maven definitely shows signs of having early-onset schizophrenia when he was younger.” He explains, I think for a minute.

“What’s that?” I ask, early-onset, appeared earlier than normal. Schizophrenia…. Schizo means… nope. I have no clue.

“Early-onset schizophrenia, often called childhood schizophrenia, is a mental illness that can affect children, usually age 7 to 13, and can impair development especially of movement, speech, and emotions. It can include auditory or even physical hallucinations.”

“If it affects children why does it matter? Maven’s much older than 13.” 

“Early-Onset schizophrenia will grow into adult schizophrenia, it doesn’t just disappear at 13.” He said it as if it was obvious, and maybe it was but still.

“So,” I start, a little worried, “You think Maven hearing his mother’s voice is schizophrenia and not just the effects of her messing with his mind?”

“I can’t be sure, but I’m asking these questions so if it isn’t just the effects of whispering than it takes a different approach to soothe his unease and help him deal with his issues in a safe and productive way.”

“Okay, is there anything else you need to know,”

“How many friends did Maven have growing up?” I had to think for a while.

“When he was 15 he met a boy named Thomas, I think they were friends.” Or lovers, that’s possible too, “But other than him, none.”

“Did he have issues understanding others emotions?”

“Yes.” Not much else to say there.

“Does he have trouble understanding his own emotions?” Cane asks, I bite my lip, he’s not fond of talking about his emotions.

“I don’t know.”

“Was he an emotional child?” 

“What kind of emotional?”

“Was he wrathful, angry, sad, all together moody?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Did he have anxiety?” Cane interrupts me before I start, “I’m asking about the paranoid anxiety.”

“He was always worried about things.”

Cane stands up, “That’s all for today, thank you for the help.”

__________

“Checkmate.” I say the word carefully, nostalgia wraps me up and chokes me out. How many times I had said that word to Cal and Cal has said it to me.

“You’re too good at this,” Ade shouts while picking up his king and tossing it at my head. It smacks me in the forehead.

I suppose it signals the end of the game. But I didn't want the game to end, a play on logic, strategy. Those are things I can win with.

Ade was open, he talked about his family, his life, his problems, with no fear of rejection or pain for the issues brought upon him by his own mind. 

He doesn't have to tell me he doesn't eat for me to understand. I don't really either. 

But it's different, Ade developed anorexia as a way to leave food for his starving family and after everyone got back on their feet it stuck.

I just feel like not eating. 

We still get up in unison when they call lunch. We grab trays and sit at a square table in the corner. 

Ade told me what they do when they see a patient isn't eating. I don't fancy a tube being shoved down my throat so I bite the sandwich. 

It's not bad, not good either. But it's better than burnt and heavily salted eggs that Cal would make. 

Worse in that it was missing something. 

I took another bite anyways. 

Ade slides me his sandwich under the table. I consider taking it but I remember what Doctor Cane said, act as though every person you meet is Thomas and base your actions on that. 

I don't know how good of advice that is since if this was Thomas in front of me I would have already crawled into his lap and snuggled up. But I think I understand the meaning of his words. 

I don't take the sandwich. I let him place it back on his plate with a scowl. He isn’t angry with me, I know that, but I feel his anger anyways.

Even when I try to help I still anger those around me.

I sit out in the garden, a nurse close by watches me. I still haven’t learned his name, not that he ever offered it either. It’s nice out here, there are a multitude of colourful flowers wrapping around the concrete building. It made it more attractive, homely I suppose. 

But I’m used to concrete and cold colours. So honestly? This is a big step up as far as homelyness goes.

Maybe a step down from the feeling of my place with Thomas.

“Hey James!” Ade shouts as he passes the nurse, I turn to see James smile lightly at him before returning to his scrolling on his phone. I wonder what he’s doing. I watch him while Ade strolls over, trying to contain some sort of uncontrolled excitement.

“Yes?” I say, uninterested, or trying to sound uninterested. I’ve avoided him since he offered me his sandwich yesterday.

Which is very hard when we sleep in the same room, just so you know.

“I got to meet your brother.” He says, an almost dazed sound to his voice, I scoff, Cal was here and met Ade, but didn’t bother coming to see me?

“Good for you,” I mock, pushing myself onto my feet and brushing the dirt off my pants.My palms drag over the soft fabric, not that it was really nice but it was comfortable. I prepare to storm away and chase Cal down to yell at him for something that I will decide on the way.

I gasp at the feeling of someone brushing their hands down the back of my pants, giving my butt special attention. I whirl around to scream at Ade for touching me.

In the corner of my eye I see James watching us intently now, his hand reaching towards the transceiver on the ground next to him, ready to call for someone should I need to be restrained.  
I don’t focus on that. 

Ade was gone, nowhere to be seen. Instead there were grey eyes and a soft smile.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked me, playing innocent by tilting his head, “I just wanted to help you clean of your pants.”

“Thomas…” I whisper, reaching a hand out to touch him.

I graze his cheek with my cold fingers and flames erupt around him. I scream, I can’t let him die! Not again!

I throw him to the ground, patting at the flames, trying anything to make them stop.

“Maven!” Thomas shrieked, “Maven, stop!” He shoves back trying to get me off him, I couldn’t let him burn though, I need to save him.

I’m pulled off of him by someone I can’t see, I shove at his face and hit him. I even try setting him on fire but my fire was smothered.

He grabs my hands and holds them against the ground.

“Mavey,” He speaks in a calm even tone, “Mavey, calm down.” I struggle a bit more as the smell of burning hair fills my nostrils. He’s going to die.

“Thomas!” I shout, “Thomas!” I reach towards him but Cal pulls me back when Thomas pulls away, scared of me.

“It’s not real,” Cal tells me, “And that’s not Thomas.”

Doctor Cane kneels down beside us, “Perhaps he's stressed out.” He tells Cal. 

I choke on the scent. I struggle against Cal’s hold on my arms, I want to stop Thomas’ pain. Cal held me tighter.

“James,” Cane addressed the nurse, “Take Maven to the infirmary while we figure out what to do about this.” Cal didn’t let go of me when James held out a hand towards me to help me up. 

“Sir,” James shifted awkwardly looking Cal in the eyes, “I need to take him.”

I scoot closer to Cal and away from the stranger. Mother would have punished me for that. Showing weakness and trust towards Cal. Cal looked at me, he looked up at James, over at Thomas, and finally over at Cane, “I can’t, he could hurt someone.”

“Calore,” Cane scorned, “Something here triggered Maven’s attack so we need to find out what and try to remove that for the time being.”

Cal reluctantly let me go, I don’t take James’ hand. I stand on my own and attempt to walk calmly inside but within a few steps my legs gave out. Cal jolts to grab me but James grabbed me first, he supports my body with his own arms.

I wonder where i’m going to stay now.


	12. Maven Makes a Friend (And Then Loses a Friend)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is pretty self-explanatory

“How long does he have to be here?” I beg the doctor. I know Maven has to be here, I know it's for the best, but still…

“Mr. Calore,” Doctor Cane starts, “We haven't even identified his issues.”

“He hears his dead mother's voice in his head, it seems pretty clear to me!” I huff frustrated. 

“It isn't that simple,” He keeps his calm tone, I guess he's been stuck with people with worse tempers than me. “Maven shows signs of multiple mental illnesses.” 

It never can be easy, can it?

“Like what?” I ask the doctor hesitates.

“Although Maven signed a consent form allowing you to peak through his file I don't think this is information he's ready to share,” Cane explains, “Especially when we don't have a more clear understanding of him.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Cane smiles before pulling out a clipboard.

“I'd like you to answer a few questions,” He requests, “It'll help us find out more about him.”

“Of course!” I exclaim, excited to help, “Ask away.”

“When did his Mother start whispering to him?”

Oh, right into it then. 

“I'm not entirely sure,” He nods at my answer I shift, “But I remember him showing a lot of fear towards his mother when he was starting to walk, he was a late walker and it irritated Elara.”

I see Cane hesitate, I guess he was thinking. “I see,” He finally answers, “And what age did he start walking?” 

“I was almost four at the time…” I calculated the math in my head, “Like 1-2 years old.”

“When did he start speaking?”

“I can't remember,” 

“That’s understandable,” Cane reassures. “Did he start having speech issues around the time of 7 to 13?”

“He used to mix up words a lot, he doesn’t do that anymore.” I tell him, “What does this have to do with anything.”

“Maven definitely shows signs of having early-onset schizophrenia when he was younger.” He explains, I think for a minute.

“What’s that?” I ask, early-onset, appeared earlier than normal. Schizophrenia…. Schizo means… nope. I have no clue.

“Early-onset schizophrenia, often called childhood schizophrenia, is a mental illness that can affect children, usually age 7 to 13, and can impair development especially of movement, speech, and emotions. It can include auditory or even physical hallucinations.”

“If it affects children why does it matter? Maven’s much older than 13.” 

“Early-Onset schizophrenia will grow into adult schizophrenia, it doesn’t just disappear at 13.” He said it as if it was obvious, and maybe it was but still.

“So,” I start, a little worried, “You think Maven hearing his mother’s voice is schizophrenia and not just the effects of her messing with his mind?”

“I can’t be sure, but I’m asking these questions so if it isn’t just the effects of whispering than it takes a different approach to soothe his unease and help him deal with his issues in a safe and productive way.”

“Okay, is there anything else you need to know,”

“How many friends did Maven have growing up?” I had to think for a while.

“When he was 15 he met a boy named Thomas, I think they were friends.” Or lovers, that’s possible too, “But other than him, none.”

“Did he have issues understanding others emotions?”

“Yes.” Not much else to say there.

“Does he have trouble understanding his own emotions?” Cane asks, I bite my lip, he’s not fond of talking about his emotions.

“I don’t know.”

“Was he an emotional child?” 

“What kind of emotional?”

“Was he wrathful, angry, sad, all together moody?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Did he have anxiety?” Cane interrupts me before I start, “I’m asking about the paranoid anxiety.”

“He was always worried about things.”

Cane stands up, “That’s all for today, thank you for the help.”

__________

“Checkmate.” I say the word carefully, nostalgia wraps me up and chokes me out. How many times I had said that word to Cal and Cal has said it to me.

“You’re too good at this,” Ade shouts while picking up his king and tossing it at my head. It smacks me in the forehead.

I suppose it signals the end of the game. But I didn't want the game to end, a play on logic, strategy. Those are things I can win with.

Ade was open, he talked about his family, his life, his problems, with no fear of rejection or pain for the issues brought upon him by his own mind. 

He doesn't have to tell me he doesn't eat for me to understand. I don't really either. 

But it's different, Ade developed anorexia as a way to leave food for his starving family and after everyone got back on their feet it stuck.

I just feel like not eating. 

We still get up in unison when they call lunch. We grab trays and sit at a square table in the corner. 

Ace told me what they do when they see a patient isn't eating. I don't fancy a tube being shoved down my throat so I bite the sandwich. 

It's not bad, not good either. But it's better than burnt and heavily salted eggs that Cal would make. 

Worse in that it was missing something. 

I took another bite anyways. 

Ace slides me his sandwich under the table. I consider taking it but I remember what Doctor Cane said, act as though every person you meet is Thomas and base your actions on that. 

I don't know how good of advice that is since if this was Thomas in front of me I would have already crawled into his lap and snuggled up. But I think I understand the meaning of his words. 

I don't take the sandwich. I let him place it back on his plate with a scowl. He isn’t angry with me, I know that, but I feel his anger anyways.

Even when I try to help I still anger those around me.

I sit out in the garden, a nurse close by watches me. I still haven’t learned his name, not that he ever offered it either. It’s nice out here, there is a multitude of colourful flowers wrapping around the concrete building. It made it more attractive, homely I suppose. 

But I’m used to concrete and cold colours. So honestly? This is a big step up as far as homelyness goes.

Maybe a step down from the feeling of my place with Thomas.

“Hey James!” Ade shouts as he passes the nurse, I turn to see James smile lightly at him before returning to his scrolling on his phone. I wonder what he’s doing. I watch him while Ade strolls over, trying to contain some sort of uncontrolled excitement.

“Yes?” I say, uninterested, or trying to sound uninterested. I’ve avoided him since he offered me his sandwich yesterday.

Which is very hard when we sleep in the same room, just so you know.

“I got to meet your brother.” He says, an almost dazed sound to his voice, I scoff, Cal was here and met Ade, but didn’t bother coming to see me?

“Good for you,” I mock, pushing myself onto my feet and brushing the dirt off my pants.My palms drag over the soft fabric, not that it was really nice but it was comfortable. I prepare to storm away and chase Cal down to yell at him for something that I will decide on the way.

I gasp at the feeling of someone brushing their hands down the back of my pants, giving my butt special attention. I whirl around to scream at Ade for touching me.

In the corner of my eye I see James watching us intently now, his hand reaching towards the transceiver on the ground next to him, ready to call for someone should I need to be restrained.  
I don’t focus on that. 

Ade was gone, nowhere to be seen. Instead there were grey eyes and a soft smile.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked me, playing innocent by tilting his head, “I just wanted to help you clean of your pants.”

“Thomas…” I whisper, reaching a hand out to touch him.

I graze his cheek with my cold fingers and flames erupt around him. I scream, I can’t let him die! Not again!

I throw him to the ground, patting at the flames, trying anything to make them stop.

“Maven!” Thomas shrieked, “Maven, stop!” He shoves back trying to get me off him, I couldn’t let him burn though, I need to save him.

I’m pulled off of him by someone I can’t see, I shove at his face and hit him. I even try setting him on fire but my fire was smothered.

He grabs my hands and holds them against the ground.

“Mavey,” He speaks in a calm even tone, “Mavey, calm down.” I struggle a bit more as the smell of burning hair fills my nostrils. He’s going to die.

“Thomas!” I shout, “Thomas!” I reach towards him but Cal pulls me back when Thomas pulls away, scared of me.

“It’s not real,” Cal tells me, “And that’s not Thomas.”

Doctor Cane kneels down beside us, “Perhaps he's stressed out.” He tells Cal. 

I choke on the scent. I struggle against Cal’s hold on my arms, I want to stop Thomas’ pain. Cal held me tighter.

“James,” Cane addressed the nurse, “Take Maven to the infirmary while we figure out what to do about this.” Cal didn’t let go of me when James held out a hand towards me to help me up. 

“Sir,” James shifted awkwardly looking Cal in the eyes, “I need to take him.”

I scoot closer to Cal and away from the stranger. Mother would have punished me for that. Showing weakness and trust towards Cal. Cal looked at me, he looked up at James, over at Thomas, and finally over at Cane, “I can’t, he could hurt someone.”

“Calore,” Cane scorned, “Something here triggered Maven’s attack so we need to find out what and try to remove that for the time being.”

Cal reluctantly let me go, I don’t take James’ hand. I stand on my own and attempt to walk calmly inside but within a few steps my legs gave out. Cal jolts to grab me but James grabbed me first, he supports my body with his own arms.

I wonder where I'm going to stay now.


End file.
